Treasured Reasons
by TheFrogLady
Summary: A light hearted tale of Harry and the fascinating adventures he ventures into. Mostly humorous, though I will add romance later. Presumably H/G & R/H. Chapter 3 finished! Please R/R.
1. Christmas Trimmings

Treasured Reasons by TheFrogLady  
  
(All characters are thoughts by the talented JK Rowling. I take no credit of them in any way)  
  
  
  
Chapter 1: Of Birds That Could Sing  
  
  
It was a breezy, blissful day; the kind of day that brings a smile to your face. The kind of day where you sit in front of a logged fire and drink a nice cup of hot frothy butterbeer. A day where you can sit and snuggle up with your favourite blanket and think about the upcoming holidays. It was a good day, and everyone at the Weasley household was in cheerful moods.  
  
Arthur was hanging strands of multicolored lights around the great Weasley Christmas tree; and cursing under his breath everytime he noticed a light was burnt out. Fred and George were jumping up and down, applauding elaborately as Ginny Weasley dumped a dozen different kinds of candy onto the dark rustic coffee table in front of them. Ron Weasley was helping his mother, Molly Weasley, roll out cookie dough onto the smooth surface of the floured kitchen table. An old tin of merrily shaped cookie cutters sat beside them - jolly fat Santas, fancy wreaths, and bells - amongst others .  
  
Christmas was fast approaching, and the Weasleys were doing all they could possibly do to make the Burrow look inviting for their two guests that would be arriving in just two days; Hermione Granger and Harry Potter. All the Weasley kids were home for the holidays, including Ron and Ginny, who had spent the past three holidays at their school - Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was bound to be a treasured Christmas; let alone a memorable one.  
  
  
  
  
Harry Potter lay on his twin sized bed; a bit snug for a boy the age of sixteen. He was staying at the Dursley's house at the moment; his ill-tempered relatives who treated Harry as if he were a fly needing to be swatted. However, at the moment, Harry didn't care about his dreaded Aunt and Uncle, let alone their piggy little pork snout of a son. Harry's eyes were closed, his hands behind his head, and he was thinking dreamily about the life outside of 4 Privet Drive.  
  
The Weasleys were perhaps the best family he had ever come to know. Arthur and Molly were nothing less than dear to him, treating him with as much love as they gave their own kids. Harry thought about Ron, his best friend. Ron had befriended Harry the first day he had miraculously found his way onto the Hogwarts Express. He was greatful for Ron; he really was. He couldn't imagine having a more loyal friend.   
  
Then there was Hermione Granger. Sure she was a know-it-all who kept her little nose plummeted into the most boring of books nearly every hour of the day. At first, Harry had to admit, she tended to be a little bothersome, but there's just some things that happen that tie people together as friends. Hermione was Harry's therapy. Sure Ron was understanding and listened carefully whenever Harry had troubles, but it seemed at times that Hermione could sense his troubles before he even talked about them. Her mind worked like a never-ending wristwatch and sometimes Harry could see the gadgets and springs working furiously in her mind. It was an interesting yet amazing relationship Harry had with Hermione. At time, Harry mused, it was probably one he wouldn't of survived without.  
  
Sure Harry could hear his Uncle Vernon's harsh shouts, Aunt Petunia's scowling snarls and even his cousin Dudley's bratty outbursts, but Harry couldn't help from keeping a bolted smile on his face since he had heard word from Ron that the Weasleys wanted him to stay at The Burrow for Christmas Vacation. Usually, he would stay at school for the break, but Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, had advised the school's headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, that three Death Eaters had escaped from a prison called Azkaban, and with dark evil wizard Lord Voldemort on the loose, there's no telling what could happen. So Harry was forced to go back to live with the Dursleys for Christmas with no doubt in his mind that it would be nothing short than the worst Christmas he'd had in six years. Now, however, things were looking promising for the young boy. Now all he had to do was sit around and wait until the day came that he could part with the Durlseys.  
  
  
  
  
  
With a distinct pop, Arthur appeared in the Weasley's fire place. A second later, Harry.  
  
"Harry!". The day had finally come. "You wouldn't believe what a mess it's been here getting ready for you and Hermione. I've eaten so much cookie dough making cookies the last couple of days, I could probably vomit up a few new Bludgers right now!" It was Ron, and Harry was more than glad to hear his friend's rambling that he couldn't keep from laughing.  
  
"Ron, I don't think you should be bragging about eating mounds of cookie dough; let alone about how you baked it." Then there was George. "Glad you're here Harry. How did the Dursleys manage with you using flu powder again?" Flu powder was a sparkly kind of dust that wizards used to transport themselves from fireplace to fireplace; truly a maginificent means of transportation.  
  
"Well without you two there, we didn't have to worry about poor Dudley's tongue expanding in any way," said Mr. Weasley, a hint of humor in his voice. Just two years ago, a group of the Weasleys had come for Harry via flu powder. The Dursleys, not knowing all the wizarding techniques, were, of course, mortified. The twins always had a knack for inventing practical wizarding jokes, and Dudley had gotten ahold of a Ton-Tongue-Toffee they had left behind. The results were astonishing and always made Harry laugh when he thought about it.  
  
"Yeah," piped Harry. "It wasn't as eventful as last time around, but they still looked scared nontheless."  
  
"Brilliant!" said Ron.  
  
"Ronald Weasley, don't you talk that way about Harry's relatives." Mrs. Weasley came bustling out of the kitchen upon hearing all the commotion in the dining room. "Harry, dear. It's good to see you," she smiled, taking Harry into the infamous Mrs. Weasley hug.  
  
"It's great to see you too, Mrs. Weasley. Thanks for inviting me here. I don't think I would have survived at the Dursley's for another week and a half."  
  
"Oh, no thanking me, dear. It's always a pleasure to have you."  
  
"C'mon Harry! I want to show you something upstairs," said Ron, tearing Harry out of Mrs. Weasley's embrace. "Ginny taught Pig how to whistle a Christmas Carol!" Pig was Ron's owl, named Pigwidgeon, humorously shortened to just Pig.  
  
Fred snorted.  
  
  
  
  
  
Ron's room looked as shabby as ever. What used to be bright orange walls were now lime green. The Chudley Cannon bedspread was now a black, lumpy comforter. Pillows of green, orange and yellow were thrown about the room. Large, wilted boxes littered half the bedroom floor, full of what looked like important looking parchments. But the most surprising feature of all was a framed photo of an old, boiled over witch with wirey, white hair.  
  
"Ron, who's that?!" questioned Harry in surprise.  
  
"Oh, that's Bathilda," answered Ron as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.  
  
"That's ammusing Ron. I don't see you for five days, and when I do I find you've been baking cookies, whistling songs with your owl, and are falling for an old, ugly witch named Bathilda?" questioned Harry, taking a seat on Ron's bed.  
  
Ron laughed. "Bathilda Bagshot. She's an author. Hermione's favourite." At this, Harry gave Ron a skeptical look. "She sent it to me! She said it's an original, handed down for centuries and she said she wanted me to have it."  
  
Harry would have carried the topic further, if not for the shrill yell from downstairs.  
  
"RON! HARRY! GET DRESSED WARM, WE'RE GOING OUT TO DINNER!" cried Mrs. Weasley.  
  
"Out to dinner?" repeated Ron. "Since when does the family go out to dinner?"  
  
Right then, a little head full of vibrant red hair peeked into the room.  
  
"Since Dad got paid extra for solving the case about the knife that ate the meat when you cut with it," said Ginny as-a-matter-of-factly, smiling brightly. "Hi Harry."  
  
"Hi Ginny. How are you?"  
  
"Oh fine, thanks. Hope everything is going good with you. Hope the Dursley's weren't too much."   
  
"They're always too much," said Harry.   
  
"Right. Well, you two'd better get dressed warm. It's colder than the Antarctic out there." and with that, she left, shutting the door behind her.  
  
"Uh oh, Harry. She's showing off her geographic knowledge. She doesn't just do that for anybody, you know."  
  
Harry rolled his eyes and threw a pillow at Ron. "Speaking of which, when's Hermione coming?"  
  
Ron looked afronted. "In two days, and what do you mean - `speaking of which'?"  
  
"Nothing you need to be concerned about Ron. Honestly." said Harry. Ron and Hermione have been seeing one another for the past three months. None of the Weasleys knew about this relationship; Ron knew there would be nothing less than teasing from his older brothers and continuos questions from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Him and Hermione both decided to keep it secret for a while.   
  
"You know Harry. Ginny still hasn't got over her crush on you." A small smile crept on Ron's face as he said this.  
  
"Would you cut it out? Your sister is great and everything, but I don't think I could ever see her in that way." The smile on Ron's face got bigger, making Harry even more uncomfortable. Just what was Ron playing at? This was his sister, afterall. Not wanting to further this discussion, Harry quickly changed the subject. "Where's that singing bird of yours anyway?"  
  
  
"Oh." Roon looked around. "I forgot. Fred used him to send Douglas Witherly a letter. He owns some rental space over in Hogsmeade. Fred and George got a good deal and they're hoping to open their joke shop soon."  
  
"That's great news!" exclaimed Harry. Harry had never told anybody, and he wasn't sure if Fred or George had either, but he gave them his winnings of the Triwizard Tournament from his fourth year at Hogwarts. The fact that they actually used it for Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes made Harry feel quite excited.  
  
  
  
  
Dinner was turning out to be a splendid event. Harry wasn't sure just how much extra money Mr. Weasley had got from his work, but by the looks of the restaurant, it was a lot. Couples all around sat enveloped with large bottles of expensive looking wine. One end of the restaurant was an open bar, but from the looks of it, it wasn't exactly as though you could go order a pint of beer. And at one point Harry thought he heard someone in the distance order "escargo". Harry assumed that the Weasleys going out for an exquisite meal was probably a rare treat, so maybe Mr. Weasley felt like being extra generous.   
  
"Vat can I geet for you Meester?" asked a tall, voluptuos woman. Her long blond hair cascaded silkily down her back in fashionable ringlets. She wore a revealing short, black skirt and a lacey, near to nothing top. Her make-up was somewhat frightful, making her look somewhat like an upperclass prostitute. She was quite beautiful at first glance, and after peeling his eyes away from her, Harry noticed everyone else in the room was staring just as he had been; even Mrs. Weasley. The veela-ish woman was looking straight at Mr. Weasley.  
  
"Meester?"  
  
"Oh. Right... well, hmm." said Mr. Weasley, clearing his throat nervously, eyeing his menu. "I'll take the Veela Parmesan. VEAL," he quickly corrected himself. Mrs. Weasley gave him a shrill stare. "A salad with romaine lettuce and Caesar dressing on the side." Mr. Wealey quickly handed her his menu and stared down at his plate, like a little boy who just got into trouble.  
  
"For you, Ma'am?," asked the goddess to Mrs. Weasley.  
  
"I'll take the Charbroiled Swordfish, Russet Potatoes, and a cup of the Clam Chowder," answered Mrs. Weasley in a slightly irritated tone.  
  
"Oh, mees, lovely choice. The clams were just caught yesterday by the seamen; so creamy and thick in the soup," said the waitress in a dramatic fashion, accentuating the word `creamy'.  
  
Ron coughed into his hand.  
  
Mrs. Weasley rolled her eyes and handed her menu the the woman.  
  
"And for zee twins?" she asked.  
  
The twins both jolted their heads up, bright eyed.  
  
"I'll have what he's having," gasped George.  
  
"Yeah, the same," said Fred, still staring at the girl.  
  
"Oh, o.k., so you both vant zee D'estra A'lou Vange?" she asked knowingly.  
  
A few confused looked and the shaking of heads from Fred and George and it was Ginny's turn to order.  
  
"I'll take the macaroni and cheese," she answered dully.  
  
"Zee vat?"  
  
"Macaroni and cheese," repeated Ginny  
  
The blonde moved by Ginny, bent slightly forward so her chest was shoved directly into Ginny's face and read the menu. "Oh, that is zee Macabre ala Chesier," she corrected, standing up straight once again.  
  
"If it's not Macaroni and Cheese, then what is it?" asked Ginny.  
  
"Eet is a blend of Strawberriez and Chocolate. A weezard's aprhodeeziac."  
  
"What?" asked Ginny, utterly confused.  
  
"Nevermind Ginny, just order something simple," piped Mrs. Weasley.  
  
"O.k. then, I will take a Caesar Salad with Garlic Bread." Ginny handed her the menu.  
  
"And you, Meester?" she asked pointedly to Ron.  
  
Ron eyed her for a few seconds, then slowly veered his eyes to his menu to read his entree."I will take the Sesame Chicken in Volandaise Date Sauce," he answered.   
  
"You vant a date?" asked the girl.  
  
"Huh?" muttered Ron, staring at the girl in disbelief. Harry looked at Ron and saw that he was blushing furiously at the ears.  
  
"Zee Volandaise Sauce eizer comes weeth a date on it or not." she explained.  
  
"Oh. Right.", said Ron, not quite understanding. "Uhh, sure. Thanks." Ron tried to smile, but the nervous glands were overpowering his smiling muscles by far. He handed over his menu, mouth agape.  
  
"And you, Mee- ," she stopped abruptly upon giving Harry a good stare. Harry's body froze. `No', he thought miserably, `Please don't let her say anything about me being `Harry Potter'.  
  
Everyone at the table looked at the girls shocked eyes, then diverted their attention to where exactly they were staring - Harry.   
  
"Um, I'll just have the, uhh...," started Harry, breaking the awkward silence. What was this creature trying to do to him? "Baked Chicken with Asparagus," he finished. Harry offered his menu to the girl who reluctantly took it, still staring at Harry with a look of uncertainty in her eyes. Finally, after what seemed like centuries, the girl spoke.  
  
"Vill that be all?" she aked tentatively as the clan shook their heads. " I vill bring some vater and cranberry juice for all ov you. Thank you". She slowly turned around after this, trying to keep her eyes on Harry as long as possible. Then with swing of her hair, she was gone.  
  
"Well that certainly was interesting," said Mrs. Weasley in a grave tone. "And certainly a good example you set on all your sons and Ginny, Arthur dear." Her tone was dripping with sarcasm.  
  
Arthur didn't respond to this; he just kept chancing dissaproving glances at his sons.  
  
"Well, if I don't say so myself, I think the girl took a liking to Harry," George offered with a smile.  
  
"Yeah," added Fred, finally out of his trance. "Harry, I think you should go for it. I'm sure she could teach you a few things."  
  
"Fred Weasley, just what is that supposed to mean?!" snarled Mrs. Weasley at her sons implications. "That girl has to be at least twice as old and twice as tall as Harry!"  
  
Ron laughed. Harry smiled. It was rather funny, actually, and Harry was glad to have something to joke about at dinner with the Weasleys. Certainly nothing could upset the wonderful aoura surrounding the dimly lit table. Nothing except a scream from a girl and the sound of glass breaking violently in the distance.  
  
  
  
AHHH! Long chapter. PLEASE Read/Review. This is my second Fan Fic. My other one is entitled Red, Black and Restricted Love if you'd like to check it out. Anyways, hope you enjoy. Chapter 2 coming soon. 


	2. An Embarassing Confrontation

Chapter 2: An Embarassing Confrontation  
  
Everybody in the restaurant turned and stared in the direction of the commotion. After a few whispered breaths and a few stances of people trying to get a better view, a stern looking older man walked out of the kitchens with both of his hands raised to calm the crowd.  
  
"Ladies and gentlemen, I am going to have to ask you all to stand up quietly and exit through the doors," said the man in a hushed tone. "I am terribly sorry about all of this but there has been a most unfortunate accident." The man lowered his hands and walked back into the kitchens. Some people just stared, some stood up so quickly it was as if their chairs had pecked them on their behinds. The Weasleys and Harry all looked at one another for a few seconds before Fred broke the silence.  
  
"That's rotten luck we hadn't gotten our meals yet. We could of had a free meal."  
  
"Oh Fred! Someone gets seriously injured and all you can think about is food? You don't suppose it was our waitress? It sounded an awful lot like her." Mrs. Weasley looked quite alarmed.  
  
"Well, they asked us to leave - I suppose we'd better go." said Mr. Weasley, standing. Everyone followed suit and walked quietly out to the Weasley's van. Ever since their Ford Anglia had been set wild in The Forbidden Forest after Ron and Harry flew it their second year of Hogwarts, the Weasley's owned a great purple GMC Mini-Van. It wasn't exactly tasteful, but it could accomodate the whole Weasley family and Harry without having to be enchanted, much to Mrs. Weasley's liking.  
  
"Now put on your seat belts. Your father can be a bit mad if he drives on an empty stomach," whispered Mrs. Weasley to the crowd piled in the back seat just as Mr. Weasley was opening up the driver's side door to get inside. Harry held back a laugh; he couldn't imagine Mr. Weasley having a bad case of road rage. The thought was somewhat ammusing.  
  
"Well, where are we off to?" said Mr. Weasley, clasping his seat belt in place. Harry heard Mrs. Weasley sigh. He could only assume it was due to Mr. Weasley still seeming in high spirits.  
  
"We could go to Velvet Haven." shrugged Ginny.  
  
"The Haven is terrible Ginny. You just want to go there because Jeremy works there." stated Ron, irritably.  
  
"How about Sampsons?" offered George.  
  
"Ohh, they have good steak sandwiches there!" said Fred, a dreamy look glazing his eyes.  
  
"I don't want a steak sandwich." said Ginny  
  
"Hush!" snapped Mr. Weasley. "Harry, it's up to you, where would you like to eat?"  
  
"Say Sampson's Harry," whispered Fred.  
  
"Harry, no!" pleaded Ginny.  
  
"Will everyone back please stop talking and give Harry a break?!" said Mrs. Weasley in an unnusually loud voice. Once everyone was quiet, she asked again "Harry, what sounds good to you?"  
  
Harry felt a bit uncomfortable. Just name a place, he told himself. You're making a big deal over nothing.  
  
"Um, that place right there looks good." pointed Harry, in the direction of a small blue cafe on the side of the road.  
  
"Chicobod Cafe, Harry?" said George, a look of revulsion on his lips.  
  
"Chicobods it is!" announced Mr. Weasley, steering his car quickly into its parking lot.  
  
Chicobod wasn't exactly the luxury or tastefulness of the other place, but it suited just fine. Mr. Weasley paid the bill and they all left with their stomachs full and happy.   
  
"Dad?" said George, getting back into the car. "Do you think we could over and look at the flats on Spring Road since we're nearby?"  
  
"Excellent idea, George. It's still early enough, we could swing by and see if it's a place you and Fred would be interested in living in," said Mr. Weasley.  
  
Everyone besides Fred, George, Harry and Mr. Weasley gave great sighs of annoyance.  
  
"Well, if we must go, I suppose we could make double use of the stop," said Mrs. Weasley. "Ron, Diagon Alley has a known intrance just a few blocks from there. Since Ginny got new robes over the Summer, I suppose we could stand to get you some new ones also. We'll all meet back at the car in an hour."  
  
Harry knew he didn't want to look at apartments or listen to Mrs. Weasley fuss as Ron tried on new robes, but he knew the alternative. Ginny. What would he and Ginny do for an hour by themselves? Obviously, Ginny had been thinking the same thing.  
  
"Mum, what am I supposed to do for an hour? Madam Milkin's is the only thing left open in Diagon Alley right now and I don't really don't feel like looking at Ron try on robes or browse the new flats."  
  
"Well, there's the park right by," informed Mrs. Weasley. "You and Harry could go for a walk."  
  
Harry gulped and looked at Ginny. Her face was red and he was sure his was also. How in the world could Mrs. Weasley suggest something so... so... preposterous?  
  
"Oh, a walk!" chimed George. "And with Harry. How ever so splendid would that be Ginny?"  
  
Ron and Fred laughed.  
  
"Fred!" shrieked Mrs. Weasley. "You leave your sister alone. It's a perfectly lovely evening. There's nothing wrong with a walk between friends."  
  
"O.k., mum. If you call THAT friends."   
  
"I said enough!"  
  
Harry looked out the window, his face hot. There was no way to get out of this one. He was to take an hour long walk in the park with Ginny at dusk. It would be interesting to say the least.  
  
  
  
"O.k." said Mrs. Weasley, eyeing Harry and Ginny catiously. "We'll be back in one hour and I expect you two to do the same." They both nodded. "We are in the muggle world and with You-Know-Who in prison, I don't hardly think anything could happen, but just keep an eye out."  
  
"Mum, we'll be fine. You don't have to worry." assured Ginny, rolling her eyes.  
  
"Yeah, mum, she'll be fine. She has Harry to look out for her," teased Fred.  
  
Mrs. Weasley gave Fred a dissaproving look before he and George left with their father. Turning her eyes back to Harry and Ginny, she repeated the words "One hour!" again before disappearing with Ron.  
  
Harry was utterly and completely alone with Ginny now. He didn't know why it had to be so uncomfortable; it just was. Maybe it was because she'd always had that crush on him, or maybe it was his rescuing her from the Chamber of Secrets four years ago, he did not know.  
  
"Honestly!" sighed Ginny, shaking Harry to his senses. "You think a mother could have a bit more faith in her child."  
  
"Yeah," was Harry's only response. He looked at Ginny, not quite knowing what to say.  
  
"Look, we don't have to go for a walk. I don't know why she mentioned that. It seems a bit silly, really."  
  
"We could sit." Harry pointed to a bench at the entrance of the park. "That is if you want to."  
  
"Oh. That's fine. Let's go sit down."  
  
And so they did - in complete and utter silence. This was getting to be a bit rude, Harry thought.  
  
"That was sure strange, what happened at the restaurant and all," said Harry, breaking the tension.  
  
"It was, wasn't it?" said Ginny. "I wonder what happened. Do you think it was our waitress?"  
  
"Could have been. She kind of gave me the creeps."  
  
"She did look at you quite particularly. It wouldn't have been so odd if we weren't in a muggle restaurant," added Ginny.  
  
They sat in silence for a few minutes pondering this, before Ginny spoke again.  
  
"Do you ever get sick of it?" she asked.  
  
Harry looked at her, his brows furrowed. "Sick of what?"  
  
She hesitated a moment. "Do you ever get sick of people goggling at you everywhere you go?"  
  
Harry looked down. Yes, he got tired of it. Should he tell her that though? She, afterall, was often one of the gogglers. "A bit."  
  
"I always feel strange around you, Harry," she said in a sort of whisper.  
  
"Strange?" Harry looked at her again.  
  
"Look, I'm going to stop myself before I say anything I don't care to share." She looked down to the floor and Harry thought it looked as if she were about to cry.  
  
"Ginny?"  
  
"No Harry, I'm sorry. I'm fine. I've just been thinking a lot lately. I'm in a strange mood. I'm sorry."  
  
"Ginny, there's no need to be sorry. If you want to talk about it, please do." Harry was feeling a little uneasy. He didn't exactly know if he wanted to hear what Ginny had to say, but he couldn't ignore it for some reason. He was interested in what she was feeling.  
  
Ginny smiled. "You're probably going to think I'm crazy," she mused, still eyeing her feet.  
  
Harry laughed silently. "Ginny, who isn't crazy?"  
  
"Too true, Harry." She took a deep breath before continuing. "O.k., it's like this," she started. Then she paused and Harry looked at her more intently than ever. She quickly looked up at him then looked back down again. "I think there's something about you, Harry, more than just who you are in a history book, that attracts people to you."  
  
Harry just kept staring at her. Why was she telling him this? What should he say? He had to say something. She looked so nervous sitting there; he couldn't leave her like that any longer.  
  
"You think I'm attractive?" asked Harry incredulously. You idiot, he scolded himself, what kind of question is that?  
  
Ginny looked at him and smiled. "Well, to put it in those words, yes."  
  
Harry was confused. "Wh-what words would you have put it in?" Bloody hell, what are you doing to this poor girl?  
  
Ginny studied him for a minute before looking away. "I don't know, Harry. I just know I make it much too obvious that I'm fond of you, and I guess I wanted you to know that it's not because your Thee Famous Boy Who Lived."  
  
"Then why?" Harry couldn't help himself. He didn't mean to seem so confronting and demanding, but this was just all so shocking. Shy, small Ginny Weasley was sitting here confronting her feelings to him. It all felt so ...strange.  
  
"Your have your ways, Harry." Her voice was serious and quiet. Her big brown eyes were boaring straight into his. "Your eyes, for one." Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. He felt cold and clammy, yet heated like an oven all at the same time. He had never thought about Ginny in this way. Never. It was unheard of. He didn't know how to take it, or what to do for that matter. It was almost as if a guilty feeling was coming over him. Not necessarily a bad guilty; it was a good guilty. He was exploring new territory; seeing Ginny in a whole new light and though it felt wrong, it felt good and fresh and new.  
  
Harry broke his gaze before choosing his words. "Your brothers would have a field day with what you're telling me right now, Ginny." He smiled.   
  
Ginny smiled too. "I suppose you're right. I'll stop harassing you. I'm sorry." She looked away.  
  
"Ginny, don't say sorry. Who wants to take a compliment with a `sorry' at the end of it?"  
  
She looked at him, astonished. "Oh, Harry! That's not what I meant. You know I didn't-"  
  
Harry was shaking with laughter. "I know, I know. It's fine. Since we're on the topic of harassing, is it my turn to harass you now?"  
  
"What would you harass me about?" asked Ginny in all seriousness.  
  
"Oh don't worry, I'll think of something," he said with a smile.  
  
Ginny's face turned bright red, almost matching the color of her hair. "Well, I guess it is only fair."  
  
"Yes it is." Harry was quite enjoying this, as nerve-racking as it was. He studied Ginny for a minute. Ginny sat motionless, staring straight ahead, fully aware of his eyes on her. "Well, for one thing, I like when you blush like that." Oh dear god, thought Harry. This is insane. This is absolutely insane. I'm flirting with Ginny Weasley. He went on. "I like the fact that you like me for who I really am."  
  
She looked up at him and briefly smiled. It faltered, however, upon seeing the serious look on Harry's face. They both stared at eachother, emotionless, too scared of what to do next. Harry finally broke the gaze.  
  
"Ginny, I don't exactly know what to make of this." There he said it. He let her know he was uncomfortable. That this was too surreal to make true.  
  
"You don't have to make anything out of anything. I just wanted to let you know that I think the world of you. I always have." Ginny looked a bit sullen; like she had failed.  
  
"Ginny, do you get the urge to do something that you know you really shouldn't do, but want to do it anyways?" Harry could only hope that Ginny knew what Harry was asking when he asked her this, and not just take it as a rhetorical question.  
"Yes," she answered. "And I know that if I never take those risks, then I will never really know if they were actually risks at all."  
  
Harry shook his head. She did know what he was talking about and she was being brave in her reasonings. It was the prefect time to do what he wanted to do. He knew it was just an impulse; that he clearly wasn't thinking logically. Hew knew this was Ginny, Ron's little sister, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's daughter. He knew these facts. He also knew she was confessing to him, telling him just what he meant to her. He adored her for that. He wanted to make a move, to show her just how she was affecting him right now; but for some reason he just couldn't make himself do it. He tried to; he did. He had to do something. What he did end up doing, however, even startled himself.  
  
Leaning forward, watching the startled look on Ginny's face, Harry opened his arms and took Ginny into the biggest hug he'd given anybody in his life. Hesitantly, Ginny's arms slowly circled around his shoulders. He squeezed his arms around her waist harder and layed his head down on her shoulder. As awkward as the situation looked, Harry felt very content and warm in Ginny's embrace. Ginny smoothly rubbed her small hand up and down Harry's back, soothing him even more.  
  
Againt the curve of her shoulder, Harry began talking in a cracked whisper. "I like how you hold me," he said and he heard Ginny sigh contentedly. "I don't know what's going on Ginny, but I've never known anyone who's given me as much credit as you have. Thank you for that."  
  
Ginny closed her eyes and breathed in hard through her nose. "Harry, I sit there and watch you go through life and it amazes me seeing what you put up with."  
  
"What do you mean?" he asked, his head still resting on her shoulder, arms wrapped securely around her waist.  
  
"It's almost like I want to take care of you, Harry. To give you the caring that you've never had. You seem so fragile and lost sometimes. I can't stand to sit there and watch people turn against you, telling you they hate you, cause there's no reason to hate you. You're an ordinary boy living in an unfair, demented world." Ginny was trying to keep her voice still and firm, tears locked back in her dry throat.  
  
"Sometimes, when I'm alone, I sit there and wonder why, out of everybody, why do I have to be the Dark Lord's culprit?" said Harry. "I know he's in the Fhorkanza Prison, but for how long? He's going to get out; everyone knows he is."  
  
Ginny hugged Harry even harder, and, unable to resist any longer, kissed his forehead. Harry raised his head and removed his hands, staring at her in astonishment. That feeling of awkwardness swept over him again. He couldn't help it. He was feeling very vulnerable right now and, quite frankly, he was scared he would take advantage of her.  
  
"Ginny, look. I'm feeling sorry for myself and I don't mean to be. I am who I am and I can't change it. I know that. The only thing I can do is accept it and move on. I don't want you to think I'm trying to take advantage of you. I guess I'm just feeling empty and I wanted someone to confide in. I don't want you to think that I'm -"  
  
"What's wrong with that?" interrupted Ginny. "What's wrong with wanting someone to confide in, someone to turn to when your upset. Harry, you're always so self-reserved and try to hide your feelings. You, sitting here, telling me how you really feel is the best thing that's happened to me in a long time, Harry. It's what I want. But most importantly, I think it's what you need."  
  
"Yes, but...." Harry halted. Ginny obviously didn't know the full affect she was having on him. He didn't only want to take the advantage of telling his woes to her. He wanted to hold her, to touch her, to feel her. He was afraid to admit it to himself, but for some reason he wanted to be loved right now; even by Ginny Weasley. He didn't care about right and wrong at the moment, he only wanted to act on impulse. He was scaring himself beyond words.  
  
"But what, Harry?"  
  
Harry stared at her. She was egging him on, she wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.   
  
"I'm acting on impulse, Ginny. I'm feeling overly vulnerbale, and I'm scaring myself. I'm afraid."  
  
"Harry, please. There's nothing wrong with acting on your impulse. If you feel like telling someone something, then tell them. Trust me, it will make you feel better. You can pretend I'm not here if you'd like."  
  
Harry sighed a frustrated sigh. "Ginny, I'm not talking about telling my secrets to you. I have no regrets about telling you how I feel, ok?"  
  
"Oh," said Ginny, biting her bottom lip. "Then what exactly do you mean?"  
  
If Harry was going to tell Ginny just exactly in what context she was making him feel vulnerable, he would have to do so in the presence of Mr. Weasley, Fred and George.  
  
"Oy! Harry. Ginny." shouted George from across the street, near the car. "Come look at these floor plans. The bedrooms big enough for a king sized bed."  
  
Harry was almost thankful they were back. He was glad he and Ginny had this little talk, but he was scared on how it would end. He turned to Ginny quickly before standing up.  
  
"Look, I'll explain more later if you'd like. Thanks for the talk, Ginny. I needed it."  
  
Harry very well knew that a mere 'thanks' wasn't a tactful way to end that personal, yet strange conversation, but he didn't quite know what else to say. He stood up, eyed her quickly once again, giving her a gentle smile, before crossing the street to listen to Fred and George talk excitedly about the floorplans. Ginny walked over a minute later but did not look at Harry. Actually, it seemed to Harry, that she was for some reason avoiding him at all costs. Harry couldn't help but feel a little guilty inside. He knew Ginny was trying to comfort him and be a loyal and caring friend. She had even told him he was attractive. He knew there was more to be established between them, yet it was still new unexplored territory and he had plenty of time to think things through before furthering his conquest with Ginny.  
  
  
  
  
O.k. I'm ending here. I enjoyed writing this chapter immensely. It was actually though at times, cause I wanted to make Harry and Ginny's actions seem somewhat true to the books (though I know it's a little mushier than the books). Please Read/Review. N one did on the last chapter :( ...Well, new chapter coming soon. 


	3. A True Friend's Feelings

Chapter 3: A True Friend's Feelings  
  
  
  
Christmas was approaching fast. Four days to be exact. If the Weasley household had been hectic before, it was nothing as to what it was now. It was early morning and Mrs. Weasley and Ginny were dusting all the wooden furniture pieces inside the Burrow. Harry and Ron were picking weeds outside in the garden and throwing garden Gnomes into the distance. Fred and George were sitting on a bench looking over the floor plans for their new flat they were going to move into next month. Ever since they had gone flat searching with their father just two days ago, they had done nothing else except talk excitedly about their perfect find. They knew very well they were supposed to be emptying out barrels of weeds into the dumpster down by the hollow, and every other minute they would look into the house to make sure their mother was not observing their slacking off. To their displeasure, Ron was.  
  
"Oy! Lazies. Get up off your duffs and work!" shouted Ron.  
  
"Dear little brother," replied Fred, innocently. "If you don't leave your pointy little nose out of our business, then only Harry here will be allowed to visit our place this Summer."  
  
"Oh, spare me," said Ron, walking up the dirt pathway toward them. "If you don't do your work around here, then I'll tell mum and she just might find out about... ohh, let's say, your intentions of asking Angelina to move in?" Ron knew this would work. He had overheard Fred talking to George yesterday about how he planned to ask Angelina to move in with them. Fred knew his mother would eventually find out if she said `yes' to his proposal, but he reasoned now was not the best time for that. Ron smiled triumphantly at the look on Fred's face and threw a dirty dishtowel at him. "You might be needing this. There's a lot of Gnome droppings." With that, Ron strolled merrily back down the path to continue his weeding.   
  
The morning came and went and all the boys working out in the garden were extremely exhausted. It wasn't until well passed lunch time that they heard the shouts of Mrs. Weasley at the front door. "LUNCH IS READY!" All the boys, including Mr. Weasley who had been working out in the shed, sighed greatily and marched into the house. Mrs. Weasley looked shocked at their tired expressions and filthy clothes. "Oh dear. We can't have you come in like this. Quick showers, all of you. I'll make extra sandwiches in the mean time, I can tell you're all very hungry."  
  
So they did as they were told. Harry was first to shower and first to come downstairs. Mrs. Weasley was piling roast beef onto sandwich rolls while Ginny was working on homework at the kitchen table.  
  
"Oh hello, Harry dear. I have plenty of sandwiches ready. Eat a few, there's plenty." Harry sat down and Mrs. Weasley set a tray full of delicious looking roast beef sandwiches in front of him. He immediately grabbed one and took a huge bite. It was extremely tasty and Harry was more than half way done with the sandwich when he finally slowed down, swallowed and turned his focus toward Ginny.  
  
"What are you working on?" he asked.  
  
Ginny looked up at him. Ever since their strange coversation at the park, they had both been purposely avoiding eachother. The whole thing was extremely weird for both of them. It was purely an act of impulse, Harry reasoned. He was just glad he hadn't kissed her. This was Ginny Weasley, afterall; Ron's little sister. Ginny smiled awkwardly.  
  
"Oh, just a Potions Essay. I can't believe Snape assigned us homework over Christmas break. I knew he was mean, but this is ridiculous." Harry just smiled and Ginny returned to her work. A second later Ron came tumbling downstairs and said outloud. "I could eat a Hippogriff!" before stealing a sandwich off the plate in front of Harry and taking a seat next to him. Harry helped himself to a second one.   
  
"So, what time is Hermione coming tonight?" asked Mrs. Weasley, setting another plate of sandwiches on the table. Harry looked at Ron and noticed a huge grin growing on his face, his mouth stuffed full of food. Harry couldn't help but laugh.  
  
"What's so funny?" asked Mrs. Weasley, turning to look at the two of them.  
  
"Nothing Mrs. Weasley," mumbled Harry, suddenly aware of Ron's accusing stare.  
  
"She's due at six tonight mum," cut in Ron. Another grin beamed on his face and Harry just couldn't help but smile himself at Ron's all too obvious facial expressions. Mrs. Weasley kept taking glances between the two of them, then finally shook her head and continued with her sandwich making.   
  
  
  
The time was nearing for Hermione's arrival. Ron spent a good deal of the last couple of hours preparing himself. Harry found it quite comical that Ron would behave so finicky, seeing as to how he'd just seen Hermione only about a week ago. Harry reasoned that being in a relationship must hold some sort of weird grip on people; it just seemed too strange to see Ron acting this way. Harry had to admit to himself that he was jealous. Harry had been slightly fond of Hermione for a while now. He never told her, or Ron for that matter, but he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be with her. He assumed his impulse with Ginny was out of slight jealousy; as if he was trying to get back at Ron somehow. This idea made him feel horrible; as though he'd been using Ginny. This wasn't exactly the only thing ailing Harry though. Harry also felt a little left out when Ron and Hermione took walks by themselves or sat snuggled close together at school while he sat alone and unnoticed. He never let it be known to them how he felt, though, and just played along with it. He knew they were both very fond of eachother and he couldn't live with himself if he construed their relationship in any way just out of self pity.  
  
Everyone was down in the dining room waiting patiently for Hermione. Fred and George were sitting on either side of Ginny whispering things in her ear while she wrote a letter to someone. Harry couldn't make out what they were saying but knew it must have been bothersome by the look on Ginny's face.  
  
"Mum, please tell Fred and George to stop harassing me!" she grumbled, holding the letter up to her chest so neither on them could see it.  
  
"Fred, George, stop that right now. Who she is writing to is none of your business!" Mrs. Weasley gave her sons dissaproving glares while she set coasters around the coffee table. The way the Weasleys were going about the arrival of Hermione seemed oddly formal to Harry's eyes. He noticed everyone had on what looked like their best attire. He wanted to ask why everyone was doing all this just for Hermione when George came to his rescue.  
  
"Where's Ron? You'd think he'd be asking the Grangers for their daughter's hand in marriage the way he's been getting ready." Everyone in the room swiveled their heads in George's direction.  
  
"George?" said Mrs. Weasley as a warning.  
  
"Hermione's parents are coming?" said Harry.  
  
"Oh, yes dear, didn't you know? They're coming over with Hermione. We invited them the beginning of the break, but of course you weren't here yet." Harry nodded his head in understandment. No wonder Ron had been behaving so oddly.  
  
Ron finally came trotting down the stairs wearing a nervous smile. He had his hair slicked back, brown snugly fit trousers, a white tucked in collared shirt, shiny polished black boots, and a...  
  
"A Bowtie?" snorted Fred. Ron swivelled his eyes at Fred with a threatening expression on his face. Fred rolled his eyes and looked away. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley gave Ron odd stares also. Ginny looked as if a headless horse had just trotted by and Harry felt utterly stupid when he burst out an impulsive laugh.   
  
"I'm sorry, Ron," he appologized quickly. "I just wasn't expecting... that." Harry's face was beat red and he could only hope Ron wasn't angry at him.   
  
"Ron, you look very lovely dear." said Mrs. Weasley, finally. Mr. Weasley whispered something in Mrs. Weasley's ear and she smiled.   
  
"You know, Ron," said George, eyeing him skeptically. "You kind of resemble a lion tamer." Ginny laughed at this.  
  
"Shove it, George. You kind of look like an arse but you don't see me complaining."  
  
"Ron Weasley!" scolded Mrs. Weasley. But Harry knew he saw the slightest smirk on her face at Ron's quick comment.  
  
"Fine, I'll take the bow-tie off!" raged Ron, storming back upstairs.   
  
"Change the pants too!" shouted Fred after him.  
  
"Enough, all of you!" said Mrs. Weasley.   
  
  
  
Finally, after moments of awaited silence, a loud clunk of a man came sprawling out from the fire place. Everyone stood up and Mr. Weasley ran over to help Mr. Granger up off the floor. "You'd think after years of using the Floo Network, you'd finally get it down right," said Mr. Granger. He stepped aside only to be trailed by a lady, falling straight forward on her face.   
  
"Mrs. Granger!" shouted Mrs. Weasley, stepping forward to help her. "Are you alright?"  
  
"Yes, yes I'm fine." she exclaimed, standing up and fixing the hat atop her head. Harry couldn't be too sure but he thought he heard a snicker escape from Fred. "Oh, dear, it's like a rollercoaster." Mrs. Granger and Mrs. Weasley both laughed.  
  
"Ahh!" It was Hermione, and she too fell forward. Harry, Ron, Fred, George, and Ginny all laughed at Hermione's tumbling. Ron rushed forward and helped her up. "Hi Ron!" she shrieked, giving him a big hug and kissing him on the cheek. Both the Grangers and the Weasleys gave them peculiar stares. Hermione pulled away and walked over to Harry. "Hello Harry." She hugged Harry, also giving him a kiss on the cheek. Harry chuckled.  
  
"Hi Hermione. I'm glad you're here." Harry looked over Hermione's shoulder and was midly shocked when he saw Mr. Granger wink at him and Mrs. Granger gave him a sharp nod. His stomach gave a lurch and he let go. He wondered dully what that could be about. He gave Hermione a confused stare and she mouthed the words "I'll tell you later." Harry nodded.  
  
  
  
After the Grangers had tea and talked animatedly with the Weasleys, they said their goodbyes and gave Hermione their hugs and flooed back to their place. Harry, Ron and Hermione went upstairs to Ron's room. Harry wanted to ask just what Hermione's parents gestures meant, but didn't think it neccesary to do in front of Ron, especially since he and Hermione were giving eachother googly eyes and pecks on the lips right now.  
  
"Is this my cue to leave?" asked Harry in an aggravated tone.  
  
Hermione giggled. "I'm sorry Harry." Ron stood up.  
  
"I'll be back in a bit. I promised my dad I'd help him in the shed tonight since I didn't this morning. I won't be too long."  
  
Hermione made exaggerated puppy eyes at him. "Aww, but I wanted to snuggle." She slapped him playfully on his backside. Ron laughed, turned around, kissed her roughly on the mouth before turning back around and disappearing out the door. Harry rolled his eyes and made a gagging face.   
  
"Oh hush!" scolded Hermione and threw a pillow off of Ron's bed at him.  
  
"Don't throw Ron's pillows at me! You don't know what he's done to those since you've been away." Harry laughed as Hermione made a look of repulsion. "Fine, I'm sorry. That was uncalled for." He laughed again.  
  
"Yes, it most certainly was!" said Hermione.  
  
"O.k., bunk over." said Harry, taking a seat next to Hermione. "Time for the story."  
  
"Story?"   
  
"Don't play dumb. Why did your parents give me those looks and why did you say you'd tell me later. What's going on?"  
  
Hermione blushed and looked away. "I was actually hoping you'd forget I said that."  
  
Harry looked at her quizzically. "Hermione?"  
  
"Fine, but promise me you won't be angry!"  
  
"What the hell did you do?" Harry was quite ammused.  
  
Hermione was silent for a moment before she continued. "I sort of told my parents that I was dating you instead of Ron." Her voice was quiet yet Harry heard every single word.  
  
Harry raised his eyebrows to the heavens and laughed. "What?!"  
  
"Harry. Don't tell Ron, o.k.?" Harry nodded, his expression still confused. "I was scared, Harry. My parents always talk about you. They think the world of you." She paused. "So do I," she said as an afterthought. "I just... I know it's no excuse, but I just..."  
  
"Hermione, what are you saying?" asked Harry. He wasn't sure he liked where this was headed.  
  
"I told them I was dating you, Harry, because I thought they'd be prouder I was dating you than Ron!" She blurted all this out and Harry froze. He didn't know how to respond to that.  
  
"Why would they be prouder about me than Ron?" Harry seriously didn't quite understand.  
  
"Oh, Harry! Brighten up. I don't mean to sound pig-headed, but the Weasley's are poor and Ron... well, he's stubborn and temperamental and... and I just blurted your name out when they asked."  
  
"Why did they even ask?" Harry was beginning to feel hurt. Hermione had used Harry; used his feelings.  
  
"They saw a letter I wrote to Ron. I hadn't put his name on it, and they asked me one morning - the letter in their fist. They're protective of me, Harry. They wanted full details. They know you. They trust you. They know you're wealthy and recognized. I don't know why I said it, really. I just knew they wouldn't pester me as much if I said your name instead of Ron's."  
  
Harry stood up and looked down upon Hermione, a hurt look in his eyes. "To be honest, Hermione, I don't know what to say. Just tell me next time before you begin to screw with my feelings. You don't even care how I feel do you?"  
  
Hermione looked startled. "Harry, of course I do."  
  
Harry looked at her for a minute. "No you don't. You have no idea how I feel about you." Harry froze. He didn't mean to say the `about you' part.  
  
"About me?" she asked quietly, cocking her head in confusion.  
  
Harry sighed. "Just forget it Hermione." He started to walk slowly toward the door before Hermione stood up and grabbed his shoulder, spinning him back around.  
  
"No, Harry, I won't forget it!" Harry realized she was angry.  
  
"What do you want me to say?" Harry fumed. "I just made an arse out of myself, isn't that good enough for now?"  
  
Hermione stared, disbelief struck all over her face. Harry could see tears swelling up in her eyes.  
"Oh my god, Harry. I can't believe you're telling me this."  
  
"Hermione, don't do this! We've been friends for years, and that's exactly what we are. O.k., look. I'm sorry I said that."  
  
"No!" shouted Hermione. She glanced at the door then lowered her voice again. "I don't want to hear that you're sorry Harry. That's not what I'm trying to get at and you know it!" Her voice was hushed, yet harsh.  
  
"I'm leaving this here Hermione. I feel very stupid right now. I'm leaving." Harry started to leave again; Hermione grabbed his shoulder once more.  
  
"I'd like to hear it Harry." Harry glared at her.  
  
"Hear what exactly?" Harry glanced at her hand still on his shoulder and she released it.  
  
"How do you feel about me?" Harry gulped. This was turning dangerously ugly.  
  
"I don't think you want to know." Once again he tried to leave before Hermione stopped him.  
  
"Harold James Potter! I damn well do want to know." She was breathing in ragged breaths, obviously scared of what he just might say. If she wanted to play that way then he might as well to.  
  
"Fine, Hermione! Fine. Just keep your voice down." He hesitated. "You really want to know?"  
  
"Yes!" she answered almost instantly.  
  
"O.k.!" Harry looked her straight in the eyes before continuing. "Hermione, you are everything I could ever wish to find inside myself. You're smart, you're brilliant, your beautiful. You're Hermione, and I love you for that. Yes, I've often thought about what it would be like to be with you. To be honest I mentally kicked myself for ever thinking such things about you because I couldn't imagine ever doing anything to mess up my friendship with you." Harry was rambling, hardly thinking about exactly what he was saying. He didn't even notice the look of shock on Hermione's face. He just kept going. "Sometimes, Hermione, sometimes I would just look at you and think `My God, this is the most amazing creature on this earth'. Sometimes when I was alone with you, all I could think about was reaching over and snogging you senseless, but you know what? I knew I'd pay for it. I knew you were too good for me. I knew you had more sense than to make more than just a friendship with me and to be quite honest, I was glad. I didn't know if I could deal with you anyway. And I see you being with Ron that I was right; I couldn't. Anything Ron ever does that is not quite up to your standard, you tell him and you make him feel like crap for it. Ron's not perfect Hermione; but I've got news for you. Neither are you. Cause if you were, then we wouldn't be having this conversation right now. You would except Ron for who he is and wouldn't bring me into the picture, making me feel like crap right along with him." Harry took a deep breath and added one last thing. "If you don't tell your parents the truth then I'm going to tell Ron the truth."  
  
It wasn't until Harry was done with his rambling that he realized Hermione was crying. And what he felt next was a crisp, cold slap across his face as Hermione brought her hand to his cheek. Harry was startled and stared at Hermione. Hermione finally lowered her gaze and stomped heatedly out of the room. Harry instantly began to feel regret. 


End file.
